Leng Zhi knew his own life, no matter how strong, would end one day. Spirit Hall's rise and fall had already taught him: people weaken, but doctrine survives.
So he began creation of greater legacy: The Everfrost Sutra.
It was more than combat skills. It was philosophy, breathing methods, inscriptions, even morals. He wrote simple but powerful lines children could memorize.
"Patience is defense."
"Frost does not rush."
"Wall cracks if roots shallow."
Every disciple was required to copy verses daily. Soon, entire valley resounded with chanting.
Merchants carried small slabs etched with Sutra into distant empires. Farmers placed them near fields as talismans. Some generals requested forgings on walls of forts. Faith in frost grew not just as clan creed but as continental doctrine.
Evil sects cursed his name, but common folk called him Everfrost Saint. It was no longer about one man—it was movement.
Leng Zhi remained calm. He said only: "I am not saint. I am only wall before storm."
But Eternal Tome glowed brighter than ever, whispering: Doctrinal Transition Achieved. Frost becoming eternal scripture.
And for first time across cycles, he felt more than preservation. He felt beginnings of true immortality—his words, not body, would never die.